


Consent

by heavnofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavnofhell/pseuds/heavnofhell
Summary: Part of the A-Z series - follow-up to Blood. After Lucifer lends Sam a helping hand, the hunter takes a chance to return the favor.





	

The light blue, paper-thin material stuck to Lucifer’s skin, his sapphire eyes transfixed upon the dark splotches marring the ironically **soothing** color of the uncomfortable fabric. He had _nearly_ protested when Sam had opened the passenger door of the vehicle for him, the words fading quickly from his poised tongue as he looked up at the **tired** and **pained** face of the human. Wordlessly, he had slid gingerly into the leather passenger seat, jolting unwillingly when the hunter shut the door behind him.

The archangel had managed to stay relatively calm for the duration of the drive, his head bowed down, and his hands laid out flat upon his knees. Sam glanced over at him from time to time - more often than was probably _necessary_ , in fact. How could he take his eyes away from the fallen angel, after everything that had happened in the last few hours? Whether he was looking for signs of injuries more **grievous** than what could be accounted for at first glance, or simply attempting to convince himself that Lucifer was _truly here_ , **alive** and **breathing** and sitting **mere inches** away, even Sam could not say.

“We’ll get you back to the motel room - we can get cleaned up there.” The hunter’s voice was quiet, but it seemed too loud in this small and silent space between them, and he was stricken by the **ludicrous** and **unexpected** fear that the sound might cause Lucifer _pain_. Then again, the slight flinch from the archangel did not go unseen by Sam’s observant eyes, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, clearing his throat of a strange and sudden tightness. 

“I’ll give Dean a call once we’ve gotten settled. He and Cas should’ve found the nest by now.” He realized belatedly that Lucifer knew next to nothing about this hunt, but, _Heaven help him_ , he was **nervous** , and Sam had a nasty habit of babbling when his nerves got the better of him.

Lucifer, for his part, remained **unnervingly** quiet, his emotionless eyes studying a small tear in the fabric just above his knee. In the back of his mind, there was the foggy thought that prompted him to respond to Sam’s voice, but the very idea seemed utterly **exhausting** and, _somehow_ , **dangerous**. The skin of his vessel could be torn open as easily as could this flimsy cloth; as the dark and messy patches continued to seep across the immaculate blue, Lucifer was once more hit with the true weight of his predicament. Any desire he had to speak was crushed by the fear that his voice would prove to be as _weak_ as his flesh.

Sam remained silent for the rest of the short drive, but his repetitive glances toward his brooding companion did not relent. They pulled to a stop just outside of the hastily vacated motel room, and Sam killed the engine, his eyes shifting hesitantly back to Lucifer for one last, _fleeting_ moment, before he turned and exited the vehicle.

The archangel followed Sam’s lead without prompting, the opportunity to be freed of the confining automobile, breaking him free of his despondent state. He followed on the hunter’s heels, furrowing his brows in confusion when Sam stopped short at the door, his hand coming up to signal for Lucifer to wait. The archangel glanced around the man’s shoulder, his expression softening in comprehension when he took note of the unlatched door.

“I left quickly.” This time, it was Sam’s turn to jump at the quiet voice, the sound _unexpected_ , but far from **unwanted**. Hazel eyes turned toward the cool blues staring back at him, and he raised a brow, pressing his lips together with a firm nod of understanding. 

“I _did_ call. But when you didn’t answer -”

“Hey, it’s alright.” As much as he had been hoping for Lucifer to start talking to him, the  **uncertainty** in the usually confident voice was almost _jarring_ , and Sam couldn’t fight the urge to reassure the disheartened-looking angel. “I’m sure everything’s fine, but I’m just gonna take a quick look, okay?” He moved toward the door, placing his hand on the knob, but turning back when he heard Lucifer step up behind him. 

“Lucifer -” The piercing gaze stopped him short, filling him with conflicting emotions. This was **Lucifer** \- this was the devil, _himself_ \- **God’s** most powerful archangel - and Sam was trying to _protect_ him. It was impossible to deny the facts, staring into those determined eyes: the fierce and ancient depths were the same as they had ever been, but the pallid face that held them was bruised and bleeding, painful to even look upon.

Lucifer was vulnerable, regardless of how he might deny it. But what was _more_ vulnerable than the human vessel he was confined to, was his **ego** \- Sam’s poorly chosen words could easily crush the **Light Bringer’s** _infamous_ pride, and tear a deeper rift between them than that which already existed. So, instead of speaking, the hunter merely held a finger up to his lips, indicating the need for absolute silence, before turning back and slowly pushing open the door.

With one hand reaching back to pull the gun from his waistband, Sam reached out with the other to flip on the lights, his eyes scanning the space quickly. He moved across the room, checking around the bed before pushing his way into the small bathroom. A quick glance into the shower, and he was satisfied that they were alone, lowering his gun to his side as he returned to the main room, Lucifer watching him curiously from his place near the bed.

“All clear.” He walked back to the doorway, lying his gun down on the table as he passed, before closing and dead-bolting the door. When he turned back, Lucifer was still standing near the bed, but his head was now slightly bowed, and he was swaying ever-so-slightly on his bare feet. Sam immediately felt another bout of unbidden **guilt** , catching sight of the blood smears upon the carpet, as well as the stains on the hospital-scrub style clothing the angel was wearing. 

“ **Lucifer**.” His voice drifted up from his constricting chest, just a breath above a whisper. _That_ , however, was all he needed to catch the **Morning Star’s** attention, as the sapphire eyes shot up at once, weary and confused. Sam moved slowly toward the archangel, keeping his movements subdued and predictable. “Here: sit down. I’m gonna grab something to clean you up, okay?” 

The gentle tone seemed to be an unexpected change for both of them, Lucifer watching Sam with a hopefulness he could not keep at bay, and Sam looking to the archangel with uncertainty and traces of disbelief in his eyes. Neither of them had _ever_ expected to be here - to face a situation so surreal, it was nearly **incomprehensible**. The _human_ , for one, had never imagined that he’d see Lucifer again, and that was a secret guilt he had planned to keep hidden for the rest of his mortal life. 

But now, **here he was** \- standing before the man who was, **undeniably** , his other half, so much the same as Sam had always remembered him, and still, so very, **_disturbingly_** different. The hunter felt none of the reservations he had known before, but this new dynamic between them felt _all wrong_. With the archangel being _nearly_ mortal, they were practically on even footing - but it felt _far_ from being **balanced**. Sam was quickly coming to despise it, even if he didn’t know why. 

After what felt like eternity, Lucifer finally relented to Sam’s instructions, shuffling back a few feet, and lowering his heavy body carefully onto the mattress. He raised his head quickly at the sound of the opening door, watching with slightly widened eyes as the hunter exited the room. He could hear the car door open, slamming shut again after a moment, and then Sam was re-entering the motel room, a large duffel slung over his shoulder. 

Lucifer’s gaze never left the man, watching closely as Sam approached the bedside, dropping the bag next to the archangel on the mattress, and leaning over to open it up. He dug through the contents for a moment, pulling out a small, white box, followed by a few articles of clothing. He reached back down to pick up the first-aid kit, holding it in his hands for a long, silent moment, his breathing slowly steadying itself out as he seemed to fight an internal struggle. 

“You’ll probably want to change out of those. I’ve got some clean clothes you can wear.” Sam turned his focus onto the archangel, and Lucifer watched him with an unreadable expression, straightening his back slightly - cautiously - when the hunter knelt down in front of him. Sam opened up the kit, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid, and reaching over to grab a towel from the pile of clothing. 

As he dampened the cloth with the antiseptic, Lucifer _immediately_ reached down to pull up on the hem of his own shirt, his movements slow and pained as he stripped off the clothing with **unquestioning** responsiveness. Sam paused for a moment, pressing his lips together as he observed the strange behavior. He looked back down to the now bare torso, his eyes widening a touch and his lips parting as he inhaled sharply. 

Lucifer’s body was covered in bruises and cuts - many of them made with _surgical precision_. There were small puncture wounds littering his arms and chest, making him look like a human (or angel) version of a pincushion. It made the hunter’s stomach twist in shock. 

“ _ **Sam**_?” That quiet, lulling voice brought Sam’s eyes slowly up, staring back into Lucifer’s questioning gaze. He licked his lips, swallowing down hard and looking back down to the cloth in his now shaking hands. Without another word, the human reached forward, his brows pinched tightly together as he focused solely on the pale flesh upon which he worked, afraid of what might happen if he looked back to that familiar and battered face. 

He worked quickly, but kept his touch _gentle_ , once more unnerved by the complete lack of response from the body beneath his hands. He attempted to ignore the pain in his chest, going through the motions on autopilot… until he reached Lucifer’s back. 

The skin around his shoulder blades was nearly _black_ , deep contusions running down the entire length of his back. There were more incisions, one particularly **striking** one at the base of Lucifer’s neck. Blood was dripping freely from where the stitching had come undone, and there was a small protrusion just beneath the skin. Sam brought his hand up slowly, his fingers reaching out and just barely ghosting the flesh, when Lucifer’s tense body seemed to finally **crack**. 

The archangel was on his feet in a moment, the sudden movement causing him to teeter _dangerously_ , his knees buckling beneath his own weight. With the agility of a well-learned hunter, Sam was up and closing the gap between them in a second, reaching out and gripping at Lucifer’s arms to hold him steady. With a low, **panicked** growl, the archangel yanked himself free of the grasp, reminding the hunter that, locked up **Grace** or _not_ , Lucifer was still **far stronger** than an average human. 

“Lucifer!” Sam reached forward again, his hand gaining purchase on the angel’s wrist, desperate to keep him from harming himself further. And then the resistance changed to  **force** , and instead of _pulling_ , Lucifer was _**pushing**_ forward, his forearm heaving into Sam’s chest and forcing him backward. With a short yelp of surprise, the hunter hit the bed, falling flat onto the mattress, with the archangel tumbling down on top of him. 

Two, cool hands found their way around the man’s neck, and Sam immediately grabbed at the wrists, using all the force he could muster to prevent Lucifer’s hands from taking hold. 

“Lucifer! _Stop_! _**Please**_!” The words rushed out of him in a panicked plea, and, at once, the blind rage in the crystal blue eyes seemed to clear away, the anger lifting from the archangel as quickly as Lucifer lifted himself from Sam. He scrambled back off of the mattress, panting heavily as he hit the floor, sliding backward until he came up hard against the wall. 

“Sam - I’m sorry… I don’t -” 

“Lucifer, what the _hell_ was that?” Sam was sitting up now, rising slowly as he stared down at the shaken archangel. His own voice was shaking, his movements wary as he resisted the nearly **primal** desire to go immediately to Lucifer’s side. Whatever had happened, there was no telling what had caused it, and whether it would happen again. 

The archangel fell silent, staring up at Sam with a deep regret swimming in his infinite gaze. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to calm his racing heart. When he _did_ manage to speak again, his voice had returned to the quiet and controlled _calm_ that Sam recognized, putting the human immediately at ease, despite every hunter instinct he had telling him to be prudent.

“My wings - they must have seen them when they found me.” He shook his head, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he dropped his eyes to the floor. “They demanded that I show them, but I would not allow it. They have no **right** to them. They have _no right_ to treat an archangel so _shamefully_.” He nearly **snarled** the last few words, but his voice broke with a stuttering inhalation. 

Impulsively, Sam moved toward the archangel, drawing Lucifer’s attention, his heart stopping at the way his entire expression seemed to crumple with despair and shame. As a tear slipped down Lucifer’s cheek, Sam dropped to his knees, moving forward and stopping just in front of the angel. 

“I’m sorry, Lucifer. I didn’t know. I should have asked before I -” He shook his head apologetically, meeting the archangel’s eyes, and speaking in a hushed and earnest voice. “But I _do_ need to look, Lucifer. They did something to you, didn’t they? To your neck?” 

The archangel furrowed his brows, blinking slowly as he reached up to drop a hand over the base of his neck, his fingers prodding at the hot and painful wound there. He swallowed down, giving a short nod as he dropped his hand back to his lap. 

“ _Yes_. They placed something in my vessel - but I was not awake.” He closed his eyes with a small, forlorn shake of his head, feeling entirely pathetic and weak as he thought about the way simple humans had been allowed to violate the most powerful archangel in creation. But Sam was **right** \- he needed to be made free of their grip, and this was the only way to do so. If he could trust _any_ human, it would be his other half - and he would do so without question, just as he had _always_ done. 

“Okay, Sam.” He reopened his eyes, looking up with renewed determination, giving a small, but certain nod of his head. “You’ll need to take it out.” He pushed himself carefully forward, crawling the few feet to Sam’s side, before sitting upright again, bowing his head down as invitation for the hunter to begin. “It’s okay, kiddo - I can do this. I’m _not_ going to hurt you.” 

His quiet promise pulled at Sam’s heartstrings, but he pushed down that emotion, nodding to himself as he shifted forward, grabbing the first-aid kit from where it had landed on the floor, and opening it up to find a pair of tweezers. He searched a moment for the bottle of antiseptic, finding it just beneath the bed, popping it open and cleansing the tweezers. 

He brought his hand up again, hovering just above the incision, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Slowly, _gingerly_ , he brought his fingers down to touch the heated skin, holding his breath as he awaited a reaction. When nothing happened, he applied more pressure, his fingers prodding gently at the flesh just around the wound. After a few seconds, he managed to find a small, hard bump, announcing his success with a quiet “ ** _gotchya_**.” 

Sam brought his other hand up, the tweezers poised between his fingers. He bit his bottom lip nervously, lying his free hand flat upon Lucifer’s lower back in a gesture he hoped would be **calming** to the archangel. 

“Okay - this is gonna hurt. Probably quite a bit. Are you ready?” 

“Yes. _It’s fine_ , Sam. I’m not going to break. Please - continue.” Lucifer tilted his head to glance back at the hunter, his lips quirking up just slightly in a nearly imperceptible smile, and he gave the man a reassuring nod. 

With another, deep breath, Sam steadied his hands, pulling back at the now opened wound, and working quickly but carefully to push the tweezers beneath the skin. He held his breath the entire time, managing to take hold of the small, unknown item, and pulling it free of Lucifer’s body. 

“ _Got it_!” He turned to drop the items onto the bedside table, reaching down and grabbing the antiseptic-soaked cloth, before turning back to Lucifer and pressing it gently against the bleeding wound. “You doing okay?” 

“ _What is it_?” Sam’s forehead creased in concern as Lucifer’s breathless words dismissed the question, but he knew better than to pry, instead turning back to study what he had found. It was covered in blood, and, with a hesitant glance back to Lucifer’s back, he relinquished his pressure on the cut, picking up the object and cleansing it quickly with the cloth. It was small and metal and smooth, with something like a serial code written across the surface. 

“ _Shit_.” Sam clenched his jaw tightly, rising up from his place on the floor, the chip still in his hand. “It’s a tracking device - it _has_ to be. Who in the hell _are_ these people?” He growled in anger, looking down and meeting Lucifer’s steady gaze. With a small shake of his head, he dropped the chip to the floor, crushing it with his boot heel. “We’ve gotta get out of here. _Now_.” 

He reached down, carefully helping the archangel to his feet. Sam helped Lucifer into one of his own over-sized sweatshirts, before quickly gathering the few items he had brought inside, and guiding the angel out of the room. They were in the vehicle and tearing out of the parking lot in seconds, making it only a block before the tell-tale red and blue lights illuminated the street from behind. Sam glanced in the review mirror, catching sight of the unmarked vehicle, his face darkening dangerously. 

“They _aren’t_ going to take you, Lucifer. It’s not gonna happen.” The conviction in Sam’s words wrapped around the archangel like a blanket, bringing him a sense of **comfort** , even in this dire situation. The hunter _meant_ what he said - he _wanted_ to keep Lucifer safe - to keep him **free**. Even if he didn’t manage to do it, knowing that he _desired_ to was more than the angel had dared to hope for. 

A quiet, musical sound rose up from the seat between them, indicating to Sam that his brother was trying to reach him. As the vehicle behind them began closing in fast, Sam tore quickly around the corner, greeted by the sight of a woman standing in the middle of the road, a gun held up in her hands. He jerked the wheel quickly, but not fast enough to avoid the bullet that shattered out the windshield, the sound of breaking glass was followed by the crunch of metal, just as the muffled sound of the musical ringtone faded to silence. 


End file.
